


Blood Donor

by Korpuskat



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blood Donation, Blood Drinking, Blood Loss, F/M, Other, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpuskat/pseuds/Korpuskat
Summary: He tips his head, squints. “I’ve been around a long time, never seen someone who wants it. I can assure you, you won’t like it.”“Maybe I will.”
Relationships: Damon Salvatore/Reader, Damon Salvatore/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 142





	Blood Donor

**Author's Note:**

> New to the fandom, sorry I'm late. Dunno how to write Damon. Here we are anyway.

“I’m a blood donor. It’s basically the same thing.”

“More direct.” His smile is cloying, deceptive. What should be a display of peace is warped by too-sharp points. His hand is cool at your throat, the pad of his thumb presses over your pulse and his gaze drifts lazily between the fluttering under his palm and your hazy eyes. He tips his head, squints. “I’ve been around a long time, never seen someone who wants it. I can assure you, you won’t like it.”

“Maybe I will.” You say. You’re sure he’s being honest, but you wonder exactly how many have offered instead of him having to _take_ , making him _hunt._

“And why would you be any different?”

You shrug, swallow hard. Your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “Because I like you.” Damon cocks an eyebrow, you grin weakly. “As impossible as that is.”

“You like someone you get them a gift.” He leans in close, a stray hair brushes over your cheek and his bright eyes look deep inside you. “You know, candy,” His eyes drift up, face curving into playful ignorance. “What is it people use as gifts these days?”

“Doesn’t it count as a gift?” He deflects with humor and facetious remarks but you can’t hide the earnestness in your voice. It makes him pause, throws him off his game.

So instead he dips his head and all you can see is black hair, feel his nose pressed to the underside of your jaw. He inhales deep and slow, a growl resonating in his chest. He pulls back just far enough for you to see the darkness gathering about his eyes. “You are a gift...” He purrs.

“Damon..”

“This is going to hurt.”

When the rush of ecstasy is quieted and Damon licks at the slowly ebbing flow from his bite, he already wants to gloat. Wants to mock your naive invitation, the innocence of it all, that you could think of him as anything more than a killer. Your tremors, the soft whines in your throat- you sound like any other victim now. Under the sweetness of your blood he can taste the _I told you so,_ but as his lips brush against your ear, warm and slick- he feels something. He expects your hands against his chest, pushing with all your feeble human strength.

He finds them wrapped around him, hands twisted into the leather of his jacket.

He pulls away and you try so weakly to keep him close. Even without the blood loss you wouldn’t be able to stop him, but the attempt at all is cute. Endearing. He peers at your face and finds you pale, a clamminess to your cheeks, your eyes half-lidded and struggling to focus. It's impossible, but he has to ask anyway. “And?”

Your eyes are heavy, your head bobs as you struggle to stay awake- he’s sucked blood from you much faster than the slow process of donating. And from your neck no less- a double down on hypoxia. Nevermind the fear that he could kill you, the intimacy of him pressed so close. You’d have collapsed if not for Damon supporting most of your weight- so steady and anchored as you waver. His question rings in your head for a moment- _and?_ And what?

You blink slowly and fight to remember where you are. _And?_ His hand, now warmed from your skin, catches your chin and tips your face up. Had he taken too much? No, no he’s sure- he’s in control of himself, he’s not _Stefan._ Still, so little blood shouldn’t have you wobbling quite so bad-

Damon murmurs your name and he watches as your eyes light up. “You alright?” 

You nod against his palm. He says nothing as you nearly fall again, held up only by the hands at your chin and the small of your back. Your mouth is dry, your neck hurts, your voice comes out hoarse. “Wow.”

One dark eyebrow raises and you’re too lightheaded to decipher the meaning. “Not the usual reaction.”

You struggle to find the blue of his irises, the lingering red tinge to the scalera. He grins and you trace the outline of his unnatural teeth, the red stained across them. It should be terrifying, should make you scream for help- and all you can do is wobble on your feet and tug at his jacket with a weak, “Do it again.”


End file.
